Stuck In My Ways
by Chlover
Summary: Hwoarang and Julia have been together for 2 years. During their trip to nebraska, Hwoarang runs into a familiar face... Yaoi. HwoaKazzy! Ratings went up!
1. World So Cold

A/N: Yes. A Hwoarang + Kazuya fic. I guess I decided that there were far too many Hwoa + Jin, and Lee+Kazuya's out there, and only one HwoaKazzy fic that I've read. I guess this is my first fic where Julia is an important character… It's hard resisting the urge to kill her off, but I'll try.

**Disclaimer** I, Chloe, do not, in any way, own anything related to Tekken. Nor do I, in any way, shape, or form, promote drug use, or being unfaithful. In fact, I am completely against people who cheat on their partners. 

Stuck In My Ways

Chapter One

World So Cold 

Large snowflakes slowly drifted down in the still air. A couple sat on a bench, watching the Frozen River under the sunset. A romantic couple under a romantic sky, not even allowing the noise from passing cars to disturb them. 

Julia Chang gazed at the couple, green with envy. Her fantasy struggling to live through the roaring engine of the motorcycle beneath her. Why couldn't he tell? Why didn't he care? The man driving made a sharp turn, allowing the romantic view to disappear. So uncaring. How could he be so blind? Julia held on tighter, terrified that another turn like that would throw her off. She promised herself that her boyfriend of two years would see again. He'd become a new man. 

The bike stopped by a hotel. Julia got off, still shaking from the force of the vibrating engine. Her boyfriend lit a joint and revved the engine. She gasped, "You're not going out tonight!" The man just ignored her and drove off, tossing a set of keys that landed at her feet. "Hwoarang! Get back here!" She called after him, hopelessly.

Julia grabbed the keys off the white sidewalk, before the snow buried them. She had trouble trying to figure out why he had agreed to go on that trip with her in the first place. It wasn't supposed to be fun. She was there in Nebraska researching more into the G-corporation. They had located the ruins of where Heihachi's son had been resurrected. Her and her team were going to investigate. Of course she knew that Kazuya had competed in the fourth tournament, but she wanted to know more about the devil gene before she sought him out. Maybe Kazuya would be able to help her in her plans for reforestation. 

Maybe it was all just wishful thinking. At that point both of her goals seemed next to impossible. Would Hwoarang ever change? Would Kazuya Mishima ever help her if she found him? They were nice goals to try to live up to, but how would she live if she failed? Her boyfriend was almost impossible to be in the same room with anymore, but she didn't want to let him go. She loved him. How could anyone live with themselves after failing to save the environment? She had to succeed in both tasks for the sake of the world, and the sake of Hwoarang.

A rush of warm air met her as she opened the door of the hotel. It wasn't a very classy place. There was no restaurant or any other place to eat at. There was only a small bar on the top floor, and of course, with her luck, she got a room right under it. 

Six floors and no elevator. Peachy. Julia trudged up the stairs, praying for something to stop her from killing her boyfriend when he returned. 

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_Please let her be asleep. PLEASE! _

Hwoarang opened the door slowly and peaked inside. It was One am. If he had kept her awake that late, he knew he wouldn't live to see the Korean sun again. Julia may have been a kind-hearted, spiritual, tree-hugger, but boy did she have a temper! Of course, that's what Hwoarang liked about her and would purposely set her off at least a dozen times a day. But even he knew not to make her angry when it came to her work, and keeping her up half the night would be doing just that.

The lights were off. A good sign, unless if she was meditating. The room was completely silent. Hwoarang walked in, quietly closing the door behind him. He blindly made his way to where he was sure the bathroom was, but smacked right into a wall, "Shit," He cursed in a whisper.

"Hwoarang," Julia's irritated voice came out of the darkness, "It's a little to your left."

He felt to his left and found what he was looking for. A mumble escaped his lips that sounded somewhat like a thanks before he locked himself in the bathroom. She was awake. There was bound to be an interrogation, as there was every time he came home late. They didn't officially live together. Julia just stayed with him when she was in Japan or Korea, and he often tagged along on the little digs she went on. 

Maybe Julia would wait until morning. Hwoarang splashed warm water on his face and changed into some looser pants before leaving the bathroom. Unfortunately all the lights were turned on, and Julia was sitting on a chair by the window, waiting. Oh yeah, she was pissed. 

"Where were you?"

Hwoarang shrugged and leaned against the wall by the bathroom door, "Cheating on you."

Julia glared, "Sometimes I wonder."

He laughed and ran a hand through his fiery mane, "Oh give me a break, Julia! The only people who stay in this town are farmers and hillbillies. Oh yeah, and your friends."

"So then you shouldn't have a problem telling me where you were," She pressed, still glaring at her boyfriend, finding it hard to believe that she was strangely attracted to him at that moment, "Why are you always dodging my questions?"

"Because I've answered them a million times before. I was just riding around. What do you expect? I can't cheat because I don't know anybody here, and I'm not that kind of guy. I wasn't buying drugs because all they fucking have here is 'chew'. I wasn't drinking, because I'm not drunk right now. What the hell do you want me to say?"

Julia sighed, "Stop swearing."

"Fuck you."

"Hwoarang," She shot him a nasty look, "Now is not the time to test me."

The Korean lit a cigarette, being thoughtful enough not to smoke another joint around her, "What the fuck do you want me to do? Stay by your side 24/7 like an obedient little pet? I might as well be on a fucking leash! I'll make you a deal. I will stop swearing when you start trusting me."

Julia shook her head, "How can I trust you when you act like this? Going off for hours at a time. I can understand that you want time for yourself, but you could at least tell me where you've been and come back earlier." She sighed looked at his clothes, "Let me take you shopping tomorrow after work. Sarah and Tom want to take us out for Dinner."

Hwoarang couldn't believe he was hearing that, "A double date with Sarah and Tom, huh? How cute. The most yuppie couple out of all your friends. I'll bet you plan on dressing me up in a sweater vest or a tie or some preppy shit like that!" He looked at her through suspicious eyes, "You know, I haven't the faintest fucking clue why you insist on dating me when you're trying to fucking change everything that I am. You're trying to turn me into Jin Kazama, aren't you?"

"I am not. It just would be nice if you acted decent for one night. Maybe then we'd get along."

"Decent? If you think that I'm so indecent, then why the fuck are you with me?" Hwoarang asked, feeling his face heat up with insult.

Julia frowned, "I'm not going to give up on you."

"Give up on me?" Hwoarang repeated slowly, realization forming on his face, "So that's what this is."

"What?"

Hwoarang grabbed his coat and turned back to his girlfriend, "I'm not one of your fucking digs where if you dig long enough through the dirt, you'll find some priceless artefact! I'm your boyfriend, not your fucking project!" He opened the door.

"Wait!" Julia jumped up, "I'm sorry Hwoarang! I love you!"

He laughed bitterly, "Don't you get it? You're in love with the idea that maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to turn me into a new man. I'm not about to pretend to be something I'm not, just to tickle your fancy." He glared at her and stepped out into the hall.

"Hwoarang wait!"

"Fuck you," He snapped before slamming the door behind him.

Julia collapsed against the door, dropping her head in her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She eventually cried herself to sleep.

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The roaring engine had a way of maintaining Hwoarang's sanity. It had stopped snowing hours ago, and the temperature had dropped a few degrees. At least Julia's work hadn't taken them to Alaska like last time. Now that was cold. 

Hwoarang parked the bike on the side of a street, and climbed off. It was so relaxing to be alone. He knew he wasn't cut out for relationships, but he had thought that maybe once in his life, he met someone who accepted him. Beautiful delusions. Did he really need to be humbled by reality? Baek accepted him, but Baek was dead. Killed by Toshin. Killed by that so-called 'Fighting God'. Anyone who could label that creature with the word God, should have been shot. 

It was the same place where Julia had been gawking at the couple earlier. Of course the couple was long gone, but it did seem like a peaceful place. Hwoarang pushed snow off the bench and sat down, lighting a joint. The frozen river glistened under the moon peaking out of the clouds. It looked like a river of crystal. A touch of beauty in the hideously boring state of Nebraska. 

"Doo San."

Hwoarang jumped to his feet, startled by the voice behind him, and he went immediately into fighting stance. His eyes widened in recognition. "Mishima-san." 

Kazuya smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, "So this is the boy who one of my blood could only manage a draw against."

The presence of the older man was bone chilling. It was a man who had been thrown into an active volcano and was still walking and talking and kicking ass! Hwoarang never thought he'd ever fear another living soul, but there were always exceptions. "Uh… Yeah."

"Relax, Doo San. There will be no fight today," Kazuya said, his voice soft with amusement.

Hwoarang did as he was told and fell out of his stance. Although, he remained rigid, ready to lash out at any sign that Kazuya's intentions were less then honourable. "Do you have a specific reason for sneaking up on me, or did you just want to see me freak out?"

The older man laughed, "I've been wanting to meet you ever since I watched you fight at the Fourth Tournament. I was rather disappointed that I wasn't matched against you, but my father has a way of setting things up so that nobody leaves satisfied," He assessed Hwoarang carefully, "Are you afraid of me, Doo San, or am I imagining that tremble?"

Hwoarang scowled, "It's cold."

"So it is," Kazuya smiled, glancing at the Crystal River. "Stunning view. Reminds me of a painting I once owned. Although I'm sure it would have made a much more interesting piece of art," He looked back at Hwoarang, "If it contained a contrast such as this,"

"Such as what?"

Kazuya didn't answer. Instead, he watched Hwoarang, studying the Korean as if it were his painting. The arrogant smirk not leaving the Japanese devil's face for a second. Finally, after seeing Hwoarang squirm slightly under his gaze, he spoke, "You look so out of place in this snowy paradise. As we speak there are people on the other side of the road, staring suspiciously, convinced that you must be trouble… You don't belong where people will judge you so quickly."

Hwoarang rolled his eyes and sat back down on the bench, "I don't need a demon to tell me that I don't belong in this place. I didn't come here to belong. I came here for Julia. And don't ask me why because I don't fucking know."

"Your eyes tell me different," Kazuya said, sitting on the bench next to the redhead.

The old man was right. Hwoarang did know why he came, and it disgusted him. He came because he was afraid that if he didn't become a little of what Julia wanted, he might have lost the one person who he thought had accepted him. Tagging along was just a subtle way of being supportive. He frowned, knowing that all along, he had really known that Julia was trying to change him. The fantasy was warm, but the woman, herself, ripped it away, leaving Hwoarang with nothing but a world so cold. 

Hwoarang glanced at the man beside him, realizing that he wasn't the only one who looked out of place. Kazuya was so dark in more then one sense. It just seemed strange seeing the demonic man surrounded by the soft white snow as he stared out at the crystal river. His face was distorted by years of hate, anger, and pain. Even the smirk on his face didn't seem cruel and hateful enough to belong there. 

"Let me buy you a drink," Kazuya offered.

"Why? So you can fucking hit on me in a warmer place?" Hwoarang accused, grinning.

When Kazuya's smirk deepened, Hwoarang's grin disappeared. He was JOKING! What was wrong with that guy? And Kazuya responded, "Let's not be bothered with details. Unless," He paused to add emphasis, "You are still too afraid of me."

"I think your expectations are a little too high there, bud," Hwoarang stood, and started toward his bike, "You are possessed by a devil, you survived falling into an active volcano, and you're hitting on me. You're fucking right I'm afraid of you!"

Kazuya laughed, "I didn't fall into an active volcano, I was tossed in."

Hwoarang turned to him, "Oh, well in that case," He said sarcastically, "You must be a great guy! Let's fuck!"

"Don't tempt me," Kazuya taunted.

"Fuck you," Hwoarang shuddered and turned back to his bike only to be tackled to the ground, face first into the snow, "FUCK! Get off me! Fucking cold! You said no fight today, man! I'm too tired for this!"

Kazuya turned Hwoarang around so they were face to face. The Korean blew snow off his mouth and glared at his attacker. Kazuya wiped the rest of the snow if his prey's face, remaining in control by pinning down the Korean's arms with his knees. Before Hwoarang could bark some nasty comment, shockingly soft lips grazed his own.

A/N: Yes, ok, I admit it, No.. No I don't. I won't admit anything!!!!!! BE GONE!


	2. I Am Human

A/N: I guess I forgot to mention it in the first chapter. This fic was inspired by a White Stripes song called, "You've Got Her In You're Pocket." I just thought it was only polite to mention the inspiration. Yes I listen to the White Stripes, and if anyone has anything to say about it… please don't. I like my happy delusions.

**Disclaimer** [See Chapter One.]

Stuck In My Ways

Chapter 2

I am Human

Without so much as a second thought, Hwoarang launched the other man off of him, using his feet. What had gotten into Mishima-san? Was he purposely trying to cause trouble? Well if trouble was what he wanted, trouble was what he would get_. No man gets away with pulling that shit. Not even a man that's part devil!_

Hwoarang sprang to his feet and fell into fighting stance. His whole body was covered in snow, and he was beginning to really feel it. The still air suddenly picked up a breeze, adding too the coolness. Kazuya stood and dusted the snow off the front of his trench coat, ignoring the Korean's hostile glare. Kazuya appeared thoroughly amused as he stepped onto the cleared sidewalk, smirking. 

_What a wise guy._ Hwoarang only resisted beating that guy's ass because he thought it was probably bad luck to beat up a devil. "What was that about?"

"Testing your loyalties," Kazuya smirked.

"Fuck that!" Hwoarang raged, kicking the snow, "I don't need to be a loyal man to know to kick your ass for that! Just who do you think you are, pulling that shit on me? I don't know where you got the idea that kissing me wouldn't have serious consequences, but-" He watched Kazuya turn away, "Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you, Mishima!"

Kazuya waved without turning back, "Until we meet again, Doo san. Farewell." And walked away.

Hwoarang stared after the other man, still shocked and angry. He cursed under his breath and hopped back on his bike. Having a man's lips touch his really made him want to prove that he was straight. The engine roared to life underneath him, and he sped off toward the hotel. It was time to apologize to Julia. It wasn't right to leave her waiting like that. 

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The restaurant was fairly fancy. As fancy as possible for a small crappy town. Most of the customers were old couples ranging from 40's – 70's. Every now and then the odd young couple could be seen, or the odd child with their grandparents. Every single one of them looked rich and conceited. 

Just about every head in the building stared as Hwoarang walked in with Julia and her friends. They had compromised. He agreed to come as long as he didn't have to dress up. So there he was, amongst all the yuppies in formal wear with his white wife-beater, and faded jeans, torn at the knees. His fiery hair was slicked back, and topped off with his goggles. Sarah and Tom seemed a little uneasy around him, and it was confirmed when they both blushed at all the attention he was attracting. 

The waiter seated the four near the back, probably trying not to scare off customers. Hwoarang sat down, leaning back in his seat, rudely balancing the chair on the back legs. Julia sat next to him. He watched with a quirked brow as Tom pulled out Sarah's chair for her, and took his own seat directly across from Hwoarang. The menus were brought to them, and the waiter asked them if they would like anything to drink, though he aimed his question at everyone but the Korean.

Tom smiled, "A bottle of Pinot Noir, please."

The waiter nodded and walked away. Hwoarang frowned and sat up, "Hey…"

"Hwoarang," Julia whispered, "I don't think this place serves beer anyway. Behave yourself."

He rolled his eyes and leaned back once more. Sarah and tom looked at each other wearily, not entirely sure what to make of their friend's love interest. They had met him before, but it was only a handshake and a 'we should do something.' Of course, the Korean dismissed them without responding to it, but they figured if Julia could see something in him, they might as well give it a shot.

Sarah looked back and forth between the two before leaning in to ask, "So where'd you two meet? Was it romantic?"

Hwoarang smirked, "I beat her up."

"Must you?" Julia shook her head, "No. We met at the third Iron Fist Tournament. I told you about it. Of course neither of us got what we wanted out of the tournament, and we were too wrapped up in self pity to notice each other, but about a year later, when I went to Korea to do some research, I had to pry some information out of the military, and we bumped into each other." Julia smiled and touched Hwoarang's knee, "That's when we got together."

"Military?" Tom laughed, "I should have known. You miss it? You keep in touch with your army pals, eh?"

Hwoarang frowned at the 'No Smoking' sign before answering, "My army pals are currently hunting me down, My former superiors want me in there custody, dead or alive."

Tom went pale, "Wha-Why? What did you do?"

"I went AWOL and beat up a few of their men when they came to fetch me. They're just a little pissed off. They should get over it in a while."

A couple more questions were fired at him, but something else caught Hwoarang's attention. A man walked through the doors. Kazuya Mishima. Kazuya was wearing a business suit, sunglasses, trench coat, and a black godfather hat, hiding his hair. It was dangerous for the man to be there, even with the subtle disguise. Julia and her friends were after him, and were bound to notice his presence eventually. 

Kazuya was seated three tables away. He glanced leisurely in Hwoarang's direction, but with the glasses there, the Korean could see no hint of a care. Julia nudged her boyfriend with her elbow, trying to get his attention. Hwoarang rubbed his side where he was nudged, and attempted to form a plan to get Kazuya out of there. Not only for the devil's safety, but for Hwoarang's sanity. He couldn't stand these people. Any excuse to leave would be a much-needed one.

Yes! An idea! Hwoarang put his arm on the back of Julia's chair and turned to her, "Do you mind if I go outside for a smoke?"

She frowned, worriedly, "You didn't bring your jacket, Hwoarang. It's cold out there."

"Please," He pouted, trying to look as pitiful as possible.

Julia grinned, trying not to giggle, "Fine. But don't get into any trouble."

Hwoarang kissed her lightly on the lips before standing up and smirking devilishly, "Let's not get too demanding, toots," and walked across the room. He glanced back at Kazuya, trying to send a subtle hint to follow before walking out the door. 

The Korean leaned against the wall, away from any doors, not wanting to get in trouble for scaring people away. He lit a cigarette, and waited. Luckily, it wasn't a long wait. The restaurant door opened smoothly, and the man in the godfather hat stepped out, and up to Hwoarang. 

Kazuya leaned against the wall next to the younger man, and gazed around the area. He shook his head, refusing a cigarette Hwoarang offered. "Quite the people you're with, Doo san. What did it take for her to talk you into this outing?"

Hwoarang sneered, his eyes on the sidewalk in front of him, "We had a fight and I figured that agreeing to do this shit would make it up to her. Fuck this. I don't know why she insists. Nobody wants me here, and I don't want to be here." He shivered and took another drag in hopes that it would warm him.

"Cold?"

"What do you think?" Hwoarang snapped, "Anyway, I didn't just come out here to chat with you. I wanted to tell you that you shouldn't be here. The whole reason Julia and her yuppie tree-hugger team are in Nebraska is to get to you. Something about reforestation. I have no idea what they think you can do to help, but they do, and they're a fucking spoiled bunch, so if they don't get their way with you, they're planning on forcing you." He grinned, "Raped by Radicals."

Kazuya quirked a brow, "Forcing me to help them? How do they plan on doing this?"

"Pffft. They're in the process of studying you by doing some investigating of the G-corp lab ruins. I have no idea how much they've found or if they've found anything, but better safe then sorry."

"You don't want them to catch me?" Kazuya asked, seemingly amused, "Don't you care about your girlfriend's plans for reforestation?"

Hwoarang glanced at the door, "Of course I do. I just think she's taking this whole thing a little too far. I mean, going after a devil? All this money she's spending searching for you probably could have got her what she's wanted in the first place. It's all just a waste of money." He hesitated, "And I'm warning you because, despite popular belief, I am human, and I wouldn't wish being tortured by a bunch of yuppies upon even my worst enemy."

A strange silence followed his admittance. Hwoarang looked at Kazuya to see the older man pull off the glasses, revealing ageless eyes. Kazuya straightened up and stepped closer to his son's rival. This time Hwoarang made no move to fight. He only flicked ashes off his cigarette, and watched Kazuya.

"Doo San," Kazuya smirked, "Your fear is gone."

"Really? I hadn't noticed… I'm going back inside. It's fucking cold out here."

Kazuya grabbed hold of Hwoarang's shoulders and paused, expecting some form of attack, or at least a obscene threat, but neither came. In truth, Hwoarang found the older man to be strangely attractive and appalling, both at the same time. It was difficult to decide whether to crush him or kiss him, so he allowed Mishima to decide. 

Their lips met. After a moment or two, Hwoarang placed his hands on the older man's hips, dropping the cigarette into the snow, and pulled him closer. Kazuya ran his fingers through the fiery hair, carefully avoiding knocking the goggles off. It was unbelievable that such a situation was actually happening, but that wasn't the most important thing on the Korean's mind at the moment.

Suddenly, Kazuya broke away, winking at Hwoarang, "Until next time…" Before Hwoarang could protest, the older man was already running down the street, his coat flying wildly behind. 

A/N: A little short? I know, it's not like me to do something so short, but I figured it was time to end the chapter. Sorry if there are any yuppies reading this. I meant no offence… Really… 


	3. Not My Fault

A/N: Well… I hope you like this chapter. That's really all I have to say…

**Disclaimer** Tekken is not… OMIGOSH! CREEPY CANADA IS ON!!!! ***Runs away***

Stuck in my ways

Chapter 3

Not My Fault

            Wind blew snow violently against the window. It had been storming for over four hours, and it looked like it was finally coming to an end. Of course, it was warm in doors, so it didn't really matter. At least the TV was still working, but the Cartoons in the USA weren't nearly as entertaining as the ones in Asia. Who the hell was that Skunk on that goddamn Bugs Bunny show and why was he such a stalker slut?

            The previous night went well, considering what had happened, and who he was stuck dining with. It could have been worse. It could have been Jin dining with them. Of course, Hwoarang insisted on paying half the bill, it being more a matter of pride then anything else. Everyone obviously thought he was no good street trash, and they were probably right, but he didn't want them to think that he couldn't support himself. Even though they probably figured he stole the money. That guess wouldn't be too far off; he did come upon his money illegally. Once out of the military, he resumed Baek's old hobby of pit fighting, despite how hard such fights were to find nowadays.

            Julia snuggled in closer, Hwoarang's arm casually draped about her shoulders as he popped M&M's into his mouth with the other hand. It was aggravating the way Julia kept trying to trick him into little romantic moments every now and then, but he had grown used to it, and learned to make do. 

            Hwoarang flicked through the channels, frowning at all the soap operas. What kind of television was that? Sometimes Hwoarang longed for the Asian cartoons he had been taking for granted. Damn vacations always took him away from the important things. Oh yeah… It's not a vacation. It's an important business trip, and if all goes well, the plans for creating more trees to hug will be in motion in a month's time!

            "Honey," Julia moaned, half asleep, "Will you go to the store for me?"

            An odd request for someone barely awake. He popped an M&M in Julia's mouth and asked, "What the hell do you want from the store?"

            She snickered, "Shampoo, more chocolate, a magazine, and orange juice."

            "They have shampoo here… oh yeah that testing on animals shit," His eyes widened suddenly, "Did you say magazine?" He got to his feet, "No way." He shook his head, holding his hands in front of him, defensively, "There is no way I'm buying one of those girly magazines again!"

            "Hwoarang," Julia crooned, grinning sleepily, "I mean an O magazine. Not Cosmo again."

            The Korean stood, staring at Julia for a few moments, trying to decide whether or not to refuse. He finally grabbed his coat and headed out the door, mumbling, "What the hell is O magazine. Sounds like some creepy convict thing. Isn't there a fucking movie called O? Oh damn, this magazine better not be like that teenybopper, badass wannabe shit. If I get into a fight because some gay-bashers decide to do me in for buying this shit, I'm blaming YOU Julia!"

            She laughed lightly and grabbed the bag of M&M's, popping some into her mouth as she listened to the mumbled rants fade. That definitely wasn't the same Blood Talon she met at the third tournament. He was changing and he didn't even know it.

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            Ah. The sweet music of a roaring engine. Hwoarang sped down the street, going way over 35mph. damn small town speed limits. The wind breathed through his Jean jacket like it wasn't even there. Damn cheap-ass stolen goods. Never as good as they should be.

            There he was. Hwoarang drove by a fountain where Kazuya sat, reading a paper. He slowed to a crawl, contemplating whether or not to say hi, when out of nowhere, Tom and another one of the male tree-huggers lunged at the Older Japanese man, tackling him into the empty fountain. Hwoarang swung his bike around, revved the engine in an attempt to get their attention. That idea failing, he drove straight toward the one of the attackers that was standing right by the ledge. The person leaped out of the way, just before the bike could hit him.

            Hwoarang leapt off, immediately attacking Tom, who was currently holding the Japanese man down. The Korean spun, bringing his heel down on Tom's back, just barely missing Kazuya. The other guy leaped on his back, but that was easy to handle by a simple punch in the guys face, and splits kick as the guy was falling. Obviously tree-huggers weren't cut out for the fighting life, because the guy was immediately knocked unconscious.

            Tom stood and glared at Hwoarang, "I should have known you'd side with a devil. Just wait till Julia hears about this," And ran off down an alley, before Hwoarang could even try his luck at Blackmail. 

            Kazuya got to his feet, smirking, as always, as he looked upon the redhead, "There was no need for that. You and I both know that I was fully capable of handling the situation. So why is it that you chose to put your own relationship in jeopardy to do something that wasn't needed?"

            Hwoarang paused and studied the other man; "I've been looking for a reason to kick that guy's ass for awhile now. Besides… from what I understand, they're not supposed to attack you until they know you won't cooperate… Why do all yuppie guys think they're so tough?"

            "Why do all street punks think they're so tough?"

            "Touché," Hwoarang grinned, "Now this has been a lovely chat but I really must be going to complete my mission… hey… You wouldn't by any chance want to go to the store with me? You know, I'll pay, you purchase."

            The older man shook his head and folded the snow-covered newspaper, "Since when does the Blood Talon run simple errands for a Chang?"

            No answer was needed. Hwoarang climbed back on the bike and winked at Kazuya, "All I gotta do is buy the shit, then we can do what we want for awhile. She didn't say I had to get back right away… Get the fuck on the bike, old man."

            Kazuya obeyed, smirking. As he secured himself behind the redhead, he put his arms around the leaner torso, and slipped a hand just barely down Hwoarang's jeans. Hwoarang inhaled through his teeth. So close. The hand was so close, but not there. He shifted uneasily, trying to clear his head enough to drive, and proceeded to swinging the bike around, and speeding back down the street.

            Kazuya leaned in so that his breath was tickling the Korean's ear, and whispered, "I know this little place we can go. It's a little bit out of town…" He teasingly nipped at Hwoarang's ear, "Do you like pain, Doo San?"

            "Pain?" Hwoarang breathed, having trouble concentrating on the road, "What kind of pain?"

            "Yes or no, Doo San." Kazuya ordered as he took out a knife and played it along the Korean's clothed chest, hard enough to scratch, but not hard enough to draw blood.

            Hwoarang's breathing deepened slightly. Each time the tip of the cold blade pressed through the material of his shirt, he shivered. Perhaps he should have done up the jacket. He wanted to answer, but he was too confused and embarrassed to form words. It was too much. 

            Sarah was just on her way to see Julia. Her yellow BMW going just below the speed limit. She turned into the main street just in time to catch sight of that peculiar red head passing her on a motorbike. Sarah gasped, just noticing the knife being held to Hwoarang's chest, and the man whispering in his ear. It didn't look good. She stepped on the gas, and sped the rest of the way to the Hotel Julia was staying in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Less than an hour passed. The door opened to reveal a dark room. Only one window on the roof allowed a small stream of daylight to shine upon a hard cement floor. Hwoarang stepped in, jumping as the door slammed closed. A mocking laugh followed, obviously from Kazuya. 

            Finally light flooded the room, flickering and threatening to go out, but didn't. In the centre of the room was a large bed of nails, evenly spaced, and very sharp looking. A chest stood against the wall in a corner, and a chain hung from a beam on the roof. Kazuya circled the awestruck Korean, smirking, and studying his son's rival. 

            Kazuya stopped behind Hwoarang, "Take off your jacket."

            Hwoarang complied absently, unable to take his eyes off the bed of nails.

            "And your shirt."

            Shirt? Hwoarang glanced back at Kazuya, confused, and a little more scared then he thought he should have been, but this wasn't normal. After seeing the gleam in the older man's eye, Hwoarang obeyed without a word, out of curiosity more then his fear.

            Kazuya did semi-circle around Hwoarang before continuing to instruct, "Lay down on it." 

            After a few seconds of wondering what the hell the guy meant by 'it', It finally dawned on him. The bed of nails. Hwoarang shook his head, stepping back, "You've got to be fucking kidding me. I didn't even know they made those fuckers anymore. Where'd you get a thing like that? Are you some sort of fucked up serial killer or something?"

            "Do not worry, Doo San," Kazuya said, amused, as he walked over to the chest, "It will not kill you. The nails are too close together for that. Now, about that earlier question. Do you like pain?" When Hwoarang didn't answer, Kazuya turned back to face him, "If you do not like pain, it would be wise to clarify, because I will naturally take your silence as a yes."

            Hwoarang walked over to the bed, and studied the nails. And he thought a devil alone was scary, but he was currently in a room full of what looked like torture devices and a devil. Some things were just a little too weird, but strangely tempting. 

            The Japanese man walked up beside Hwoarang, the knife in his hand. He pressed the blade against the Korean's cheek as he kiss him, "Lay down, boy. Don't make me tell you again."

            The words were more of a dare then an actual threat. Even though Hwoarang didn't like being ordered around, he obeyed, crawling hesitantly on the suspicious contraption. He was too nervous to defiantly sit up like he would have normally done. The curiosity was still the dominating emotion in his mind, causing him to actually want to obey the larger man. 

            Kazuya eyed the bare torso before him as he walked back to the chest. He stood there, digging through stuff, but blocking Hwoarang's view. Eventually he came back up, removing his coat and rolling up his sleeves. He walked back over to the bed of nails and pushed a gag into Hwoarang's mouth. "That's so you don't scream too loud," he explained as he climbed on the bed, straddling the redhead.

            Hwoarang bit into the gag, squeezing his eyes shut as the added weight forced him harder against the sharp nails, and definitely breaking the skin. The smirk from the older man didn't help, but the painful sensation was almost arousing. Such facts were obviously known by both parties, judging by the look in the other man's eyes. Sadist. 

            Large strong hands easily removed Hwoarang's jeans, almost easier then the Korean ever could. The boxers followed, hitting the floor with little force. There he was, completely exposed on a bed of nails, his body being hungrily devoured by the eyes of his own rival's demonic father. How did he end up like that? How could he allow such a situation to take place? Was it because of fear? No. To rebel against his girlfriend's silent obvious demands? No. It was because he wanted it. 

            Kazuya didn't waste any time. He slowly slipped his fingers into his mouth, drawing a desperate look from the Korean. After a moment of nothing; hesitating, only to tease his companion more, he moved his hand under the Korean's backside, and forced a wet finger into the tight entrance. 

            How could something so wrong feel so good? Hwoarang closed his eyes again, not knowing what to do, or how. Men were foreign to him. Being submissive was even stranger a feeling, but he didn't want to move for fear of the nails going in too deep. The nails. Even the nails digging into his back was almost comforting in a disturbing way. 

            "Do you want more pain, Doo San?" Kazuya inquired, exploring the interior of the younger man.

            Hwoarang nodded hissing through the gag. His eyes were still closed. For a few moments, there was no response or further pain from the Japanese Sadist. The moments were unbearable, but they soon came to an end, as the sound of another piece of clothing hitting the floor was brought to the Korean's attention. His legs were lifted and placed on what he guessed was Kazuya's shoulders. Not 10 seconds later, something much larger then fingers was pushed into his opening.

            Hwoarang cried out, almost spitting the gag out. As the other man thrusted, slowly at first, the nails scratched and pressed against Hwoarang's back. The movement, of course, became faster, and rougher by the moment, until it was nothing less then merciless. Having both sources of pain combined was overwhelming, and next to unbearable, but not quite. He could feel himself absently bucking his hips along with Kazuya's abusive thrusts. The Korean had difficulty keeping his whimpers and other pained noises down to a minimum. His back was being scratched raw from the nails, but if anything, it made him want more of the other man. More of the pain.

A/N: If it seems like I'm dissing environmentalists in anyway, I'm not. Hwoarang is! It's all him!


	4. Hungry For The Crash

A/N: Warning for all you lil kiddies, there's mention of Rape, (but it doesn't actually happen) and Hwoarang's turning kinda into a masochist, but it'll show more in future chapters. maybe. R&R or I'll be coming for you!

Oh and Sapphire17, Thank you for pointing out that little tidbit, lol I should have known! Well Now I know for future fictions, but I'm too lazy too change this one hehe. Maybe I'll just lie and say it was intended. Sound good?

**Disclaimer** Even though I do not own Tekken, I do have Hwoarang trapped in a cardboard box. I suppose I don't technically own him, but we'll just see what happens. 

Stuck In My Ways

Chapter Four

Hungry For The Crash

_Earlier, Sarah had run in, screaming something about Hwoarang getting kidnapped. It was the most ridiculous thing Julia had ever heard. She laughed, until Tom came in insisting that Hwoarang attacked him and helped the middle-aged Mishima. What was going on? So Julia allowed Sarah and Tom to both explain what had happened. It all was hard to listen to, but the situation was clear._

Hours later, the young troubled girl sat alone in her apartment, not knowing where to look. Her friends had left earlier to give her some privacy. Hwoarang must have tried to help Kazuya Mishima, only to be forced to go along at knifepoint. But where, and why? What use would the Blood Talon be to that demon? Was Hwoarang still alive? 

The question was short lived. 

The door slowly opened and the topic of the day, himself, walked in. He was walking stiffly, and seemed to be suffering through pain. Julia ran to him, her face streaked with tears, but she knew better then to touch him before knowing exactly where he was hurt. She noticed he was carrying a magazine.

He dropped the magazine on the chair by the window, and crossed the room, letting himself fall face first onto the bed. After a moment, he spoke into the sheets, "For some reasons the stores here are closed on Sundays," The pain was even obvious in his voice, despite his attempt to mask it, "I picked that shit up at a newsstand."

"Hwoarang. Sarah told me Kazuya had a knife to you, making you drive him somewhere," She noted the surprised intake of breath, "What happened?"

Silence. The Korean didn't answer for a while. It must have been a big attack on his pride to have his good intentions taken advantage of. Julia frowned, guessing it would make it harder to make a better man out of him, after something like that happens.

"Where did he hurt you?"

"He didn't hurt me," The Korean snapped, "Let it go, Julia."

She could feel another tear escape her eye. Why did he always have to be so stubborn? Why couldn't he just admit that he was in pain? "Don't lie to me! Do you think I'm blind? I can see that you're in pain! Anyone could see that! What did he do? Did he cut you? Did he beat on you? What?"

"Let it fucking go," Hwoarang ordered, angrily, "I'm not in the mood to get interrogated."

Suddenly she thought about the way her boyfriend was walking. She gasped and sat on the bed beside the man, "He raped you, didn't he? That explains how you were walking and why you're not laying on your back. You should have told me. You need to go see a doctor!"

Hwoarang got to his feet and glared at Julia, "What part of Let it go don't you understand? He didn't fucking rape me, so you can just get that insulting idea out of your fucking skull. He didn't cut me, he didn't beat me, he didn't do anything. Nothing fucking happened. You got your magazine, so be a good little girl and shut the fuck up."

Normally such words would really anger Julia, but she knew that was exactly what he was trying to do. It wouldn't work. Was there any way to get him to admit it? "Hwoarang, I love you too much to let something like this go."

"Something like this? You don't even know what the fuck this is!"

"Then tell me!"

He shook his head and turned toward the door, "Fine. If you won't leave me the fuck alone, I'll go somewhere else."

Julia could see it wasn't working out. She lay down, putting her face in a pillow and cried. It was the first time she had ever really cried in front of Hwoarang, but she couldn't stop herself. It was frightening imagining what could have happened to her boyfriend. Rape? Hwoarang? Julia could feel the anxiety and worry for Hwoarang and the angry despite for Kazuya, contrast so much, causing her body to tremble violently with the sobs. The more she tried to stop, the harder she trembled.

The angry redhead looked back at his girlfriend, appearing to be troubled by her crying. He opened the door, and closed it again, trying to decide how to handle the situation. After a moment or two of perplexity, he left, closing the door silently behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Goddamn cheap motels. Goddamn weak showers. Goddamn shitty shampoo. Goddamn horrible lighting. Goddamn Country. Goddamn existence! 

Hwoarang let the weak water pressure fall down on his back in a little less then a spray. He didn't even bother taking anymore then his jacket off before hitting the shower in his new room. The water going down the drain was a bit pink. At least that meant he didn't bleed much. 

The vision of Julia sobbing all alone in that room haunted Hwoarang, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it from the cheap motel. The water was barely helping. He needed something stronger. Just about every muscle in his body was aching from his encounter. His raw back stung, but felt a little better with the water on it. Finally Hwoarang peeled off his shirt and let the water at his back directly. 

He pushed his forehead against the wall and closed his eyes. It felt relaxing. The warm water flowed down his stinging back, and easing some of his sore muscles. Hwoarang groaned as he stood up straight. The water hadn't helped as much as he had thought. Oh well.

A creaking noise came from the other room. Someone was there. Shit. Who could it be? Who knew where he went? Nobody he knew of. Then again he did sign in with his supposed name, 'Hwoarang'. How was he to know that he was so popular? He turned off the shower. Yes. Someone was definitely there.

Hwoarang stepped out of the shower, not bothering to dry himself off, and headed for the door. Whoever it was, wanted to be heard, or they were incredibly sloppy. He stepped into the next room, his pants weighed down by the water, and threatening to fall off. Even though he knew it wasn't so, he was partly hoping that it was Kazuya waiting for him.

"Hwoarang."

"Tom," The Korean replied, "What are you doing here, and how the fuck did you get in my room?"

Tom smiled, "I think I'll be asking the questions, sport." He paused and took in the ever growing anger on the other man's face, "Julia's deeply hurt by your irresponsible behaviour. How can you treat her like that?"

Hwoarang bared his teeth, grabbed Tom by the collar, and rammed him into the wall. He smirked as he watched the American struggle to breath after such an impact, "You have absolutely NO right to confront me on subjects you know nothing about. Julia hurt herself by making stupid assumptions about what happened when she didn't see a damn thing. Nobody seen a damn thing, so why don't you, and your little new-age hippie friends stay in your own goddamn business?"

Hwoarang let go and turned around, completely forgetting about his wounds. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes off of the bed, and lit one. Tom gasped at the sight, "Holy shit, Hwoarang. That guy really did. hurt you. didn't he?"

"Hurt?" The Korean turned back to the American, "If you don't get out of here right now, I'll beat a whole new definition of the word hurt into your fucking head."

Tom didn't argue. He nodded and ran out the door.

Hwoarang sat on the edge of the bed, and cursed. There was no way he could get rid of the uncomfortable pain via normal means. It was weird. He hated the pain but he wanted to be afflicted with more. Fresh pain was almost sweet, until time made it uncomfortable. But sometimes only pain could cure pain. Even the desire for more pain was painful. 

The redheaded Korean slipped on a Jacket, ignoring his shirts. The cold might sooth his back somewhat. So would alcohol, probably, but that wasn't what he was going for. He left the motel, locking his door behind him, Hopped on his bike, checked himself in the mirror, and sped off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not everything had a simple answer, but something's did. This was just one of those things.

Hwoarang knocked on the large door, his hair frozen in disarray. Quite the amusing sight. At first nothing happened, and the Korean was afraid he wasted all that gas for nothing. Where else was he supposed to look? He couldn't find the Japanese man anywhere in town, so this was the last resort. Just as Hwoarang was turning around in defeat, the door slid open. 

Was that a smile? If it was, it quickly turned to a smirk. Kazuya seemed smug about something. He opened the door wider, and moved out of the way, welcoming the Korean inside. "I've been expecting you," He whispered, closing the door, "but before we get to why you are here, allow me to numb your wounds."

"How did you know I'd come back?"

"I've had plenty of experience with boys like you," Kazuya smiled, "Once you've had a taste of impact, you're always hungry for the crash."

Hwoarang winced as Kazuya pulled off his Jacket. The older man eased him down to sit on a low wooden table that sat where the bed of nails once was. The Japanese man sat down behind the Korean. Before Hwoarang could voice the issues on his mind, something cold and wet stroked his back. Now that was soothing. He sighed with ease and closed his eyes. "What is that, Mishima-kun?"

"An ice cube," Kazuya answered, switching hands, "Does it feel a little better?"

Hwoarang nodded and turned around, "Hurt me."

"Beg," Kazuya ordered, standing up.

Hwoarang stood too, "No. Now fucking hurt me or I'll hurt you."

Kazuya smirked and walked over to the chest, "Alright. But next time, I guarantee you'll beg."

That said, Kazuya stood and faced the younger man. Something that looked like rope was wound up. The older man faced Hwoarang and with a brief snap of the wrist, it unravelled and snapped into the air. Hwoarang's eyes widened and he automatically stepped back, falling back onto the table. It was a whip.

TBC.

A/N: You think I should carry out the scene into the next chapter? LOL! Maybe if you beg prettily, I will. or if you don't like my "love" scenes, I guess. then I won't do it, hehe.


	5. Love Liked Me

A/N: There is some racist content in this chapter, but it is in NO WAY promoting racist behaviour, in fact, I am EXTREMELY against that crap. 

**Disclaimer** Tekken isn't mine yet.

Stuck In My Ways

Chapter Five.

Love Liked Me

"Kneel," Kazuya ordered, approaching the stunned redhead.

Unbelievable. Was this really what he wanted? Hwoarang watched the whip carefully, wondering what it would feel like to be hit with it. He purposely made no move to obey. The hunger was too intense. Too painful to just listen to the dominant male. 

Kazuya backhanded the Korean and repeated his order, "Kneel, boy."

The stinging pain from the blow was beautiful. Hwoarang was far too seduced to argue. He kneeled in front of the older man, hoping that the whip wasn't just for show. The pants Hwoarang was wearing were ice, from being in the cold when they were wet. Kneeling into them was painful on his knees, but there were no complaints from him. 

The older man unzipped his own pinstriped slacks. He gently ran his hands through the fiery hair before yanking the Korean's head back and peering into those enchanting, dark eyes. The pain was visible, but welcomed. Kazuya leaned over and took the younger man in a hungry kiss. He could tell his companion was growing impatient. It was time to make it painful, for he had no desire to lose his young lover's interest. 

Kazuya straightened himself and nodded down, allowing his eyes to speak for him. Hwoarang shuffled closer to the older man, and took the exposed length into his mouth. The flesh was delicious. So delicious. Hwoarang sucked hard, desperately trying to consume every last taste of his lover's skin. Kazuya groaned, putting the whip over his shoulder so he wouldn't drop it. His knees locked, somehow keeping him standing. Snow piled on the skylight, making the room a little darker then usual. 

It was too much. Way too much. The older man moaned louder, having trouble handling Hwoarang's desperate hunger. He pulled himself out of the hungry mouth, and pulled the Korean up by the hair. "This time," Kazuya assured, trying to keep his voice steady, "There will be no gag muffling your screams."

Hwoarang wrapped his fingers around his companion's shaft, "Why'd you make me stop? Am I too much for you, gramps?"

Some people were good at not letting such taunts get to them. Kazuya was normally one of those people, but it wasn't a normal situation. The older man shoved Hwoarang's back against a wall, smirking as the redhead cried out as his old wounds hit the cold cement wall. The dark enchanting eyes were squeezed shut as he slid down to the floor. 

Kazuya snapped the whip with perfect control, inches from the Koran's nose. "Get up."

At first, Hwoarang made no move to obey, but he opened his eyes and took one longing look at the whip and complied. Why did he have to wait? Why did that old man have to play mind games with him? His back was burning despite the cool of the walls. It was screaming to him to just jump into the snow, but Hwoarang wanted something else. He wanted to get his mind off it. 

The whip snapped against the Korean's chest, drawing a neat little thin crimson line. Hwoarang barely felt it through his other pains. Kazuya flicked his wrist again, drawing a longer, deeper line, diagonally across most of the Korean's torso. It took a few seconds for the wound to start bleeding. Hwoarang watched with twisted fascination as the red beads started to grow inside his broken skin. Another snap, and matching line spread opposite to the previous one, meeting at the middle. Finally Hwoarang gasped, the fresh pain finally hitting his desperate mind. 

Kazuya licked his lip suggestively as he pulled off the Korean's icy pants. He would make the boy cry. No. He'd save the crying for the next encounter. 

Without preparing the already pained entrance, Kazuya lifted Hwoarang's legs and forced his hardened manhood into his companion. That was more then enough to promote the first scream of the night. Hwoarang squirmed, and tightened, trying to relieve some of his own pain. Maybe jumping in the snow was the better of the ideas after all. The pain was too much. Kazuya remained still for a few moments, knowing too much pain at once would only scare his new lover away. Of course he wanted to scare the boy, he just didn't want to repel him.

Hwoarang clung to his partner, not wanting his back to touch the wall anymore. His torso was stinging from both sides and being impaled by the older man just added to it. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears slowly escaping. He knew he asked for it, but he hadn't expected to get it all at once. All the pain… It hurt too much. "Stop," Hwoarang gasped, "Please, stop."

Obeying would be too easy. Far too easy. Sometimes all it took was a little convincing. Kazuya ignored his lover's pleas, and began to thrust. Pushing Hwoarang's back against the wall, slowly at first. "Do not worry my young pet," He cooed, "The pain will evolve eventually."

"Stop it," Hwoarang pleaded again, his eyes remaining closed. 

Kazuya met the plea with harder thrusts, mocking the young boy, "You don't want that and neither do I."

"Fucking stop it!" Hwoarang cried out, struggling to get out of Kazuya's grasp, "Let go of me. Get the fuck out of me, you fucking bastard."

"If I recall correctly," Kazuya grunted, thrusting more violently, "You wanted pain. Now you got pain, and you don't want it anymore? Hasn't anyone told you to be careful what you wish for? Well now you got it and I won't let you take it back." Kazuya moaned as the younger man cried out as he tightened, "I am what you wished for, and you will not deny me."

Hwoarang's breathing trembled as he panted along with the painful thrusts. It was useless to fight. It only hurt more. After a few excruciating moments, the pain started to dissipate. It started to feel good again. It wasn't long before Hwoarang became aroused. Kazuya jerked as he released himself into his companion's depths. He kept himself still as his unpredictable convulsing body threatened to knock him off his feet. 

Kazuya pulled himself out of the Korean, and noticed the hardening member against his stomach. Once he had the chance, Hwoarang moved away, wincing at the returning pain. His pride had been crushed, and he didn't know what to do about it. Kazuya pressed the redhead against the wall, got to his knees, and took the Korean in his mouth. 

Hwoarang bit back a relieved moan. Was he giving in by allowing the older man to do that? Did it matter? Who would be the one to lose if he pushed Kazuya away? Hwoarang stayed silent. He figured he could let it happen as long as he didn't make any move to admit he liked it. Within seconds, such thoughts disappeared. The world disappeared. Nothing was left except him and the Japanese devil. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sky was bright under a waning moon. So many stars. The universe was vast, full of possibilities. It was a shame Baek Doo San couldn't see that American sky. Maybe he could. Maybe Baek was right there next to Hwoarang, admiring the exact same stars. Baek would probably be able to point out the constellations too. 

Kazuya stepped out of the building and found a seat in the snow next to the Korean. The older man noted Hwoarang's refusal to meet his eyes. "Hwoarang," He said quietly, "I'll apologise if that's what you want, but it will be insincere."

"Fuck you."

"I wish you would."

Hwoarang shot Kazuya a nasty look before turning his attention back to the sky. So many possibilities, and he had no idea what to aim for. What did he want? "Mishima-san… No offence, but would you please get the fuck away from me?"

Kazuya laughed, "I just want to ask you something. May I?" When Hwoarang didn't reply, Kazuya took it as a go sign, "I don't mean to get too personal, but do you love Julia?"

"What kind of fucking question is that? Why the fuck do you care?"

"Young love fascinates me. Perhaps underneath it all, I miss my youth. Have you ever been in love?"

Hwoarang looked at Kazuya in disgust, "Who the fuck do you think I am? No I haven't been in love. I'm only fucking 22. I'd sooner cut my own balls off then fall into one of those traps." He paused and looked down at his hands, "I assume you have?"

Kazuya smiled to himself as he gazed over the field of snow, "Love liked me long ago. I didn't deserve it, but it found me. Jun Kazama was beautiful. She seen something in me that I didn't even know was there. Of course, I didn't really know that I loved her until I found myself falling into an active volcano, but by then it was too late. And now she's dead."

Hwoarang shook his head, "Well Love must hate my fucking guts. Julia doesn't love me. She loves the ideal. The bitch even wanted me to dye my fucking hair!" He leaned back and lay sprawled out comfortably across the snow, letting the cold seep through his shirt and sooth his wounds, "If you wanna be a chick and talk about this shit, can we please have a fucking subject change?"

"Why are you still with her?"

"It's none of your business."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alcohol would numb the pain. Alcohol would numb everything. Numb life. Who needs life_? Life fucking sucks. _Life is supposed to suck. C'est la vie. So why are people so obsessed with holding on to it if it sucked so much? Why do people want what they don't like? _Why do they want me?_

Hwoarang walked into a small bar. A few young farmer men eyed him suspiciously from a pool table in the back. They looked about his age, only more hygienically impaired. He ignored them and headed for the counter. Damn. The bartender look even more like a hillbilly then the rest of them. Hwoarang knew the man's hand was under the counter, stroking a shotgun. 

Being surrounded by a bunch of ignorant white men wasn't exactly Hwoarang's ideal environment, but he'd do just about anything for some alcohol. He placed his hands on the bar and looked the bartender in the eye with a deadly glare. "Vodka."

"Will that be all, chink?"

Hwoarang's jaw dropped in shock, "What the fuck did you call me?"

"Chink." The bartender smiled sweetly, and beamed as the group of men in the back snickered. Hwoarang cringed his teeth, not wanting to get into trouble in his current shape.

He licked his dry lips, and spoke slowly and calmly, "First of all, I'm not Chinese; second of all, I asked for a Vodka, third of all, I would have thought your ignorant inbred ass could have come up with something better then that. Now, my vodka, please."

The bartender shook his head, "It's my right to refuse service," He smirked.

Hwoarang rolled his eyes, and said with a back hills accent, "Well I reckon we need to get you a banjo so we can celebrate this here right." And turned to head out the door.

The guys, who were once in the back, somehow found their way to block the door. Hwoarang sighed in annoyance and crossed his arms across his chest, ignoring the pain it caused. The boys snickered again and whispered to each other. Maybe he should have stuck with going to the liquor store. Why did he always have to make the wrong decisions?

"I told you he was a Jap," One of the guys said to his friend, "He's got that Bamboo coon look about him,"

Hwoarang didn't hold back. He grabbed the guy by the collar and punched him square in the nose, "You fucking racist bastard! When you're going to insult me, the least you could do is do it well. And I'm not Japanese either, you fucking moron." He punched the guy again. 

Within seconds, the other guys leaped on Hwoarang, knocking him to the floor in a series of weak punches and kicks to the ribs. The Korean stayed still for a few moments, gathering his mind together, and swept his foot under three of the five, knocking them down and climbing back to his feet. He went directly into a kicking combo, taking out two of them. The other three got back up and attacked, spreading out. 

A knife was pulled out, and sliced Hwoarang's forearm. He grabbed one of the other guy's arms, and reached his foot up, snapping the guy's neck. The guy on his other side gasped and ran out the door, leaving the redhead with the guy with the knife. Hwoarang made one swift movement, and the guy was on the ground, and the knife was in Hwoarang's hand. He stood over his new friend and licked his own blood off the knife. 

Before he could walk out again, two officers stepped in and immediately shoved him face first against a wall. He hissed through his teeth on impact, his whip wounds stinging like hell. The cops cuffed him and roughly lead him out of the bar, one of them lazily reading him his rights. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This is a bad day," Hwoarang whined to himself in the empty cell. A cop sat across the room at a big desk, doing some paperwork. He was fat and bald. Obviously a donut pusher. "Hey pig," Hwoarang barked, "Can I have another phone call?"

The cop ignored him. 

Just as Hwoarang was ready to take a bit of a nap, there was a chime as the door to the building opened. In walked Julia and Sarah. Hwoarang cursed under his breath, "Why the fuck did you bring her here? Do you enjoy displaying me at my most pathetic?"

"Hwoarang what happened this time?" Julia sighed.

"The racist bastards called me a bamboo coon. What the fuck do you expect me to do? Give em a hug? Come on Julia, give me a fucking break."

She turned red, obviously angry with him, "You could have killed one of them! He's in the hospital with a nearly broken neck!"

"He fucking attacked me first. Yeah ok, I punched his friend, but it had nothing to do with him! He could have broken my fucking ribs with his damn boot!" He paused and looked away, "But I can hardly expect you to understand. If you're just here to lecture me, please, spare me this bullshit."

"Hwoarang if I bail you out, it'll be out of the money I planned on putting into my reforestation project. Do you see how this is crippling me?"

Hwoarang rolled his eyes, "I didn't ask you to bail me out. I called you so you wouldn't think I took off because I was angry. Honestly, right now, I would prefer if you left me here. I'm not in the mood to get in a fight with you too."

Julia glared at him and turned around, stomping out the door and pulling her friend along with her, "Maybe after a few days in here, you'll come to your senses and decide to do things responsibly."

"Yeah well you may not be to happy with those responsible decisions either, toots," He called after her, and winced as the slamming door came in response.

TBC…….


	6. Stay Mine

A/N: Ok, I'm trying to add a bit more to the story then just Hwoarang cheating on Julia. Tell me what you think.

**Disclaimer** Kazuya, Hwoarang, and Julia are not mine. Tom, however, is. But of you want to take Tom off my hands, I don't mind. 

Stuck In My Ways

Chapter Six

Stay Mine

A click sounded off, startling the young Korean to an unpleasant wake. The cell door slid open and another pig walked in. Only this pig wasn't fat or bald, but he sure was ugly. What was going on? Was it time for the public hanging already? 

Hwoarang didn't make any move. It was too risky. Maybe the cop was some perverted asshole and was looking for a little fun. Or he just wanted to kick the Korean's ass. Whatever it was, Hwoarang would rather go back to sleep. Sleep was good. He never did anything wrong when he was sleeping. Never made any mistakes. Never made anyone angry. 

"Someone bailed you out," The pig said in a rather friendly voice.

The Korean quirked a brow at the authority figure. "Who?" He asked, relaxing a little bit. At least this man's intentions weren't bad.

The pig shrugged, "Some guy. He bailed you out over the phone, and somebody else handled it so I don't know a name… Do you need a ride?"

"Thanks man, but," Hwoarang replied politely, deciding to be honest, since it was the first Nebraskan who had been nice to him, "walking will give me more time to figure out what to say to my girlfriend."

"Alright," The man smiled, "Take care now."

Hwoarang nodded and stepped out of the cell, not feeling all that smiley. He made his way out the front glass doors and into the sunny morning world. As he walked he wondered how long it would take him to piss Julia off more. Being a boyfriend gave you certain responsibilities, and apologizing when you screwed up big time was one of them. Normally Hwoarang wouldn't think twice about apologizing, but he had never seen her cry before, and he felt extremely guilty about the things that she didn't even know he did. So what would he say? How does one go about apologizing? 

The snow across the street sparkled. It was too tainted on Hwoarang's side of the road. The tainted snow was dirty and flattened and streaked with random yellow patches. The only thing disrupting the white paradise on the other side was a stomped path cutting through. Dividing the snow with human insensitivity. The untouched snow was trapped with walls of grim and dirt. 

Hwoarang shook his head, startled at his own thoughts. Since when did snow care whether it was trapped or not? It wasn't alive, it was just frozen water. But even though he didn't want to admit it, he knew he was trapped and confined by walls of his own making. 

A few more steps took him by his crystal river. He crossed the street and took a minute to gaze at it. Of course, he was killing time, not wanting to go apologize. 

A loud crack was heard. Before Hwoarang could look around to see what it was, he realized he was falling into the snow by the bench. He couldn't feel anything, and soon his sight abandoned him too. It was hard to tell whether he was conscious or not, but it didn't matter. There was no guilt in the cold darkness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

/Quite the new friend you've got.\ 

Kazuya looked around in surprise before realizing that it was coming from inside himself. He stepped into the bathroom of his hotel room and looked in the mirror. The Demon stared back at him. Kazuya replied. "Yes… What do you want?"

/I've been thinking about our current situation, and I have come up with a way for your new friend to come in handy.\

"I'm not going to use him," Kazuya growled quietly.

/Hwoarang has certain ties with your son. I imagine he'd be able to lower the boy's guard very easily.\

The Japanese man quirked a brow, thinking his inner demon had lost its mind, "How could he possibly do that?"

/Same way he softened you.\

The mockery in the Demons silent voice was apparent. Kazuya shook his head, in an attempt to dismiss the cruel idea, "That's impossible. They hate each other."

/Hwoarang will see it as a way to humiliate his rival, and he's got this fire in him that not even a Mishima can resist. We need this, Kazuya.\

Kazuya felt himself begin to panic, "But-"

/I'm sorry, but if I do not have full co-operation, your friend will be eliminated by your own hands.\

"You sick bastard," Kazuya spat at the mirror.

/Are we understood?\

He paused, but failing to come up with a plan, he answered, "… Yes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Pain. Headache. Blinding pain. What happened? Cold. Everything was so cold. Pure snow. Untouched. Sparkling snow. Crystal River. Beautiful River. Cold again. Darkness always follows. Pain. Thoughts! Grasp one! Get one! No… too fast. Too many. Where am I? In the dark. In the cold. Why did the darkness come? A crack. Loud noise. Can a noise alone bring darkness? Falling. Noise, then falling. That's it! Someone hit me!_

Hwoarang groaned through the headache as he made lame attempts at sorting out his chaotic thoughts. His eyes were squeezed shut, almost afraid of what he might find if he opened them. As soon as his thoughts cleared up a bit, he guessed someone must have taken him in, because otherwise, depending on how long he was out, he could have died of hypothermia, or maybe it wasn't cold enough for that… 

The sound of water pouring was a reassuring touch. It was unthreatening. Slowly, it convinced Hwoarang to open his eyes. He gave his vision a few seconds to adjust to the darkness and eventually realized he was in a small hotel room. Not his of course, his was bigger. There was a small table, three chairs, T.V. A cabinet and a counter all in one small space. 

He sat up, holding his head in his hands. If Julia knew he got out, and waited for him to get back, he'd been in deep trouble. So who brought him to such a place? 

A dark figure silently stepped into the room. At first the Korean didn't notice that he was not alone. After a moment, it spoke, "Good evening, Blood Talon."

Hwoarang jumped to his feet, startled. As soon as he realized it was Kazuya, he groaned and fell back on the bed, closing his eyes. "What the fuck happened?" Hwoarang's said quietly, not wanting to hurt his head any further, "Who the fuck hit me?"

"I was quite a distance away, but from what I could see, he looked a lot like one of those gentlemen that attacked me."

"Tom," Hwoarang hissed with disgust, "I should have guessed. Only Julia's friends would be dumb enough to attack in broad daylight, and quick enough to get away with it."

Kazuya flicked on a small lamp in the corner. It wasn't bright enough to bother Hwoarang too much, but it cast a yellow light over most of the room, making it easier for Kazuya to move around. He grabbed a suitcase from under the table and slipped a toothbrush and toothpaste into a side pocket. The buckles securing the suitcase were pulled tighter.

Hwoarang watched for a few moments before realizing Kazuya was preparing to check out. He got to his feet and grabbed his lover's arm, "What are you doing?"

The older man turned to Hwoarang, hesitating in order to choose his words strategically, "I have to go back to Japan. The only reason I came to America was to give me a chance to come up with a plan, but I've run out of time. I have to go."

"Oh," Hwoarang let go and stepped back. His mind came up with a million Manoeuvres to make Kazuya stay but he ignored every one of them. He walked toward the door, "Bye."

Kazuya grabbed Hwoarang's waist and turned around, relieved when the redhead didn't lash out in response. At least he was giving him a chance. They locked eyes and Kazuya spoke, "I know this is a lot to ask, but I want you to come with me."

There was a pause. "… Man, I don't know what you Mishima's do to stay rich even when you're hiding away from the fucking empire, but you know, some people don't have that kind of money to blow. I don't have enough for another fucking plane ticket, and I won't have until I get back to Korea and do something illegal. And besides, Julia would freak…"

"I've always got two tickets because I… prefer to have my space." Kazuya pulled Hwoarang closer, "As for Julia, from what I hear, it doesn't take much to make her freak… I'm not asking you to break up with her. I'm asking you to cut your little trip short. Do you honestly want to stay in Nebraska researching me for another week?"

Hwoarang took a deep breath and rested his head on his lover's shoulder. He closed his eyes and said, "Ok, so what is this plan you've come up with? What's the problem?"

"Actually… I haven't come up with a plan. Perhaps I'll just improvise."

"Man, don't make me ask again. What's the problem?"

Kazuya chuckled lightly, and looked down at the man in his arms, "You're so beautiful when you get demanding."

Hwoarang opened his eyes and glared up at the possessed Japanese, "Mishima."

"Ok, ok." He sighed, "My son has something important to me and I need to get it back. The problem is that he's always got this guard up that makes it almost impossible to retrieve what's mine. I need to create some sort of distraction I guess that would get his guard down… but every time he sees me, his guard is stressed…"

Hwoarang straightened up and smirked, "Dude I wasn't born yesterday. I've been involved in this whole tournament crap since before the third tournament. I know what you want from him. And you just made it extremely obvious that you want me to help you," The Korean walked toward the door, "Since there's only one way I could possibly get him to lower his guard, your non-existent plan isn't hard to figure out either… I'll just go pack. Come get me when you're ready to go."

Kazuya watched the redhead leave. Did that mean the boy would do it? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well it was a bit of a familiar position. Standing outside the hotel room he shared with Julia. Someone had taken his stuff out of the motel room he went to. Tom knew where it was so he probably brought Julia. Hwoarang found himself hoping Julia was asleep. Too bad things weren't usually that simple.

The door opened slowly with a quiet squeak. The lights were on. Bad sign. He stepped in only to find Julia fast asleep on the floor. It was an adorable sight, and not the kind he'd disturb, for when it came to an end, so would his attempt at taking off peacefully. 

His stuff was spread across the bed as if someone had been looking for something. Everything was folded though, or kept in groups. He raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed and relieved at Julia's anal retentiveness. At least it'd be easier to pack. Oh well, it didn't matter. 

Hwoarang started packing his things. It was much easier to just toss everything in there, but he supposed if he kept it neat, he'd have more room. A noise came from behind him, and he turned around just in time to see Julia standing there with her arms crossed. "Where were you? Where are you going? Hwoarang, what's going on here?" 

"Uh," he continued packing, "I suppose since you're awake I don't have to write a note… Julia… I've only been causing trouble here. You'd get a lot more done if I left. I'm really sorry about what I said, but I'm trying to make a responsible decision here, and staying in this place wouldn't be responsible. So I'm going to Japan again… We'll meet up again when you're out of this place, how bout that?"

Her eyes softened, "You've never made a sincere apology before."

"Yeah, well… I…"

"Hwoarang I'm sorry for trying to change you!" She wiped her eyes, "I love you."

Hwoarang usually had no problem with lying to her, but that was one thing he refused to say. He put his arms around her and kissed her gently, figuring girls liked those wordless moments, where someone's actions spoke for them. That way he wouldn't technically be lying. 

He smiled at her, pulling every dirty trick he could to ensure her trust, the one time he knew he didn't deserve it. "I will call you when I get there."

Julia smiled and kissed him again, "Ok, promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise," He lied.

TBC…………………………………

A/N: NO! Jin Kazama is not going to be a major part of the story. He'll be the major part of maybe two chapters, but that's it! 


	7. Another Mindless Crime

A/N: I realize that this is probably getting old. So I'm concluding the fic in the next chapter. Keep in mind that if I get enough reviews for the last chapter, I will write a sequel. I've already got plans for the sequel. J

**Disclaimer** Namco can KEEP Julia… Hwoarang, Kazuya, and Jin aren't mine either… 

Stuck In My Ways

Chapter Seven

Another Mindless Crime

"You can't just leave in the middle of the project!" 

"I have to."

"This is ridiculous! Wasn't his whole problem you not trusting him?"

"Yes, but he's been acting weird lately. He's NEVER apologized like that before."

"So what? You finally succeed in changing him, and you trust him even less?"

"You don't understand. I just have to go after him."

"What if he gets angry that you followed him and breaks up with you?"

"He wouldn't do that."

"How do you know?"

"He just wouldn't!"

* * *

  


The plane ride was a bumpy one. An annoying yuppie kid sat behind Hwoarang ordering people around the whole time. Of course Kazuya didn't seem to be bothered in the least. All he did was read some horror novel and eat. By the time they got off the plane, Hwoarang was ready to go on a killing spree. He even considered using the plastic cutlery they gave him with the disgusting meal.

A glass bowl of flowers floating on green water sat in the centre of a table. It was an expensive room in an expensive hotel. Not the type of hotel that would normally host businessmen or families, but once the people realized that Kazuya was a good tipper, it was no longer cause for suspicion. One staff member actually referred to Hwoarang as Kazuya's son. Such a thing naturally would have set the Korean off if he had not known any better, but he didn't want to reinforce the suspicion. 

The view was beautiful, but Hwoarang completely ignored it. There were much more important sights in the room. The large bed was draped with a cinnamon coloured spread, and off-white brownish pillows. A cot had been placed in the corner for one of the men, although they had only made the request for show. Neither of them was planning to put it to use. 

It was difficult to resist. Every move the older man made, drew Hwoarang closer. Kazuya was an angel. A beautiful dark angel. He was strong, and powerful, but the Korean wasn't one to drool at someone's feet, despite the temptation. 

/Discuss it with him.\

Kazuya glanced at the hideous being in the mirror, wondering if his companion was able to see it, but if Hwoarang did, he did not show it. Kazuya sighed and sat on the bed, "We'll rest for tonight…I have arranged for a colleague of mine to lead us to where Kazama, Jin will be working tomorrow."

"Arranged? … You had this planned before I accepted, didn't you? Bastard."

"Yes," Kazuya admitted, "You may order some dinner if you would like, but I'm going to sleep."

Hwoarang stepped closer to the older man, and snaked his fingers through the ebony hair. His eyes danced around Kazuya's face, finally coming to rest on the stern Japanese lips. "God your sexy when you try to resist me, Mishima-sama."

"Not now Hwoarang."

"Fuck that," The Korean laughed, pushing Kazuya's back down on the bed, "You expect me to sit obediently at your feet until you feel like fucking someone's brains out? No, man, I'm nobodies bitch."

Kazuya smirked, "God your sexy when you're in denial, Hwoa-kun."

"You bastard."

Hwoarang climbed on the bed and straddled his companion. His rough hands elegantly unbuttoned Kazuya's shirt. He leaned down and brought his lips to his companion's shoulder as he removed the shirt completely. He sat up and traced his fingers along Kazuya's scars. Every single one, a reminder of what the man was. A devil. A dark angel. "Mian hamnida," Hwoarang whispered.

Kazuya took Hwoarang's hand, and brought it to his mouth, kissing the tips of the fingers. The Korean's saddened eyes looked anywhere but at his counterpart's. Kazuya slipped his hand behind the redhead's neck, and pulled the younger boy into a sincere kiss. 

Hwoarang broke away, "Fuck you, Mishima," He grinned, attempting to mask his sad eyes, and pulled his shirt off over his head, "You win every time."

"I know."

They kissed again. Kazuya played his fingers along the healing wounds of Hwoarang's back, and smirked every time the younger man winced. Hwoarang unbuckled Kazuya's pants and smirked.

"Getting straight to the point are we?"

"Gotta practice for your son."

Kazuya squeezed his eyes closed and groaned in disgust, pushing Hwoarang off him, "Oh fuck you, Blood Talon."

Hwoarang fell off the bed laughing.

"You're sleeping on the cot."

"What?" He asked in disbelief, as he recovered from his laughter, "But Kazuya baby… I'm sorry. I'll be thinking of you the whole time. I promise."

Kazuya groaned again and tossed a pillow at his young lover, nailing the man in the face.

* * *

  


It was a simple schedule. From working a forklift in one of the old warehouse districts, to a coffee at noon, and then back to the warehouses. Not once did the hood on Kazama's head get lowered. Kazuya was watching from a different place, of which Hwoarang had no knowledge.

As Hwoarang watched his rival he found himself wondering why he was so quick to agree. What if the demon possessing his angel decided to kill Jin? Where would he get another worthy rival? It didn't matter. Only a coward would back out now. 

A man, who was probably the boss, showed up and spoke to Jin. The young Japanese man nodded and smiled. Once the man left, Jin started getting ready to leave. The moment he disappeared into the warehouse, the Korean got out of the rented Honda, and followed.

Within seconds, Jin stiffened up, realizing someone was behind him. Without turning around to see who it was, he just stopped and waited, listening carefully to the sound of Hwoarang's footsteps. Hwoarang admired the large stacks of crates, and the general orderly feel of the place. Warehouses weren't normally so organized, especially the ones in the old warehouse district. He eyed his prey's back and smirked.

"What do you want?" Jin asked, still not turning around.

Hwoarang leaned against a crate and crossed his arms, "Do you have a smoke?"

"Hwoarang," Jin breathed in disbelief. "How did you find me?"

"I didn't."

Finally, Jin turned around, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Hwoarang could definitely see Kazuya in the boy. Maybe it wouldn't be such a challenge doing it after all. Jin stepped forward, remaining out of reach in case the redhead decided to lash out. "What are you doing here? If you want a fight, you'll have to come back some other time because I'm exhausted, and I doubt you'd want the credit of a win if it wasn't a fair fight."

There went plan A. 

Hwoarang straightened up and lunged at the other man, knocking Jin down and pinning him against the cold ground, "You fucker! You think you can just disappear again, and not piss people off? How could I even be sure that you'd show up at the next tournament?"

Jin didn't even flinch. All he did was smile. The nerve of him! Jin replied, "You know that I'd show up at the next tournament. Now what is this really about?"

Hwoarang didn't answer. Instead, he let his eyes hold Jin's. It was all the answer that was needed.

"What… What are you," Jin looked slightly panicked. He added, with a hint of warning, "Hwoarang… Don't even think about it."

Of course, a warning was all he needed. Hwoarang gingerly pressed his lips against Jin's…

TBC…


	8. Angels Can Be So Deceiving

A/N: Ready for the conclusion? Uh… There's a bit of rape in this chapter so be forewarned…

I don't normally respond to reviews, so I'll just say, sorry, I already wrote this chapter a week ago so I couldn't change anything, but maybe I can somehow work some Kazzy + Hwoarang + Jin action into the sequel if that's what people want. I'm all about the people…

**Disclaimer** NOTHING RELATED TO TEKKEN IS MINE! 

**Claimer** everything else is ;) I own the universe!

Stuck In My Ways

Chapter Eight

Angels Can Be Deceiving

There was a flash of red as the Korean was launched off his rival. The air was suddenly heavily laden with confusion and anger. The Korean landed with a loud thump on the hard ground, and skidded back a bit, finding himself against another stack of crates. It was a bit of an amusing situation, but he wouldn't express it, for fear of ruining his whole plan B. 

Jin wiped his mouth with his sleeve and glared at the other man. "What has gotten into you?" 

Hwoarang didn't answer. Instead he watched his rival stand up, allowing the anger in the air to grow more intense. Intense was good. Defensive was good. The big reaction was very good. Things were going well so far, but Kazuya may not have been so impressed. 

"Is this your idea of a joke? Hunt me down and… do that??" Jin raged, barely yelling, but obviously angry. His eyes flickered around the warehouse, desperately trying to think of something else to say, "Just… Leave me alone."

"Jin…" Hwoarang said, almost pitifully, in the most genuine voice he could fake. He watched Jin turn and head toward the outside world, "Wait! I'm sorry!" He called.

The plan was in motion. A dark smirk crept upon the Korean's face. Of course, it would take awhile to complete the task, but there was only one-way he could have had instant success, and that was plan A. If Jin wasn't so good at avoiding fights, perhaps it would have worked, but it didn't and Kazuya would just have to be patient.

_Shit._ Hwoarang cursed under his breath as he got to his feet. He was supposed to call Julia when he arrived in Japan. He ran out of the warehouse and to the Honda. Kazuya left a cell in the car. Hopefully, the man wouldn't mind a bit of long distance charges. 

Hwoarang opened the door and sat inside, letting his feet hang out. He flipped it open and dialled the number of the hotel. A raspy voice answered, and when Hwoarang asked for Julia's room, he was informed that Julia had checked out that morning. Panicked, he tried one of Julia's friends, but they only told him worse news. Julia was on her way to Japan. That wasn't good news. 

"Hwoa-kun."

Hwoarang jumped out of the car and spun around, hanging up on his girlfriend's friend. Upon seeing the expression on his lover's face, he stepped back. "Mishima-sama… Uh… Is there a problem?"

"My son got away. You didn't do what you said you would."

"Don't sweat it, man. I've got it all worked out," Hwoarang assured, holding his hands up defensively, "It ain't over yet. Of course he's gonna push me away the first time. He's scared. It was possible that he would completely resist me. You know, possible that he didn't feel a damn thing, but did you see how defensive he got? Jin Kazama never gets angry! He wants me."

"He left," Kazuya growled.

Hwoarang nodded, "This kinda thing takes time. He'll be back. They always come back."

Kazuya's eyes slowly began to get lighter, until they were a reddish colour. Soon, they were glowing, like two demonic fireflies. As he spoke, his voice became unnatural, "You have failed me, Blood Talon. I have no further use for you."

"Whoa!" Hwoarang shook his head, stepping back some more, "Use? Um… Can I speak to Kazuya again? I think I'd prefer his anger to yours."

The demon stepped forward, slowly backing the Korean against a wall of the warehouse. He spoke no more, but the look in his eyes was enough to let the Korean know that the creature had bigger plans. Exceptionally strong Japanese hands grasped the redhead by the shoulders, as violaceous coloured wings sprouted from his back tearing the shirt with a sickening noise. With a silent disappointed message, the creature leapt into the air, taking off into the sky with its new Korean prisoner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was around 9 pm when the demon finally came to a stop on the roof of a skyscraper. It was fortunate that Hwoarang was not afraid of heights, for the demon perched on the edge, holding the Korean over. The creature laughed, a cruel taunting laugh, as it loosened its grip, allowing the redhead to slip a couple inches toward a fatal fall.

Hwoarang didn't struggle, afraid that if he did so, he'd struggle his way out of the devil's grasp and to his own death. He did not panic, telling himself that he had to think straight. Panic would only do him harm. He did not look down, knowing that if he did so, he would scream, for he was afraid of certain death. The only thing he could do was try to reason with the devil. How do you reason with a devil?

"Your 'Mishima-sama,' had plans to make you beg for pain." The demon mused, "I think I would like to put those plans in motion. You have two choices, my beautiful human. Either I let go, or you succumb to me."

Difficult choices, and normally Hwoarang wasn't one to plead for his life, but he had never dangled off the top of a skyscraper before. The Korean searched his mind for a reply, "Define what you mean by 'succumb'."

"Would you like to find out?"

"Uh… Sure."

The creature shifted its weight and let Hwoarang slip another inch, "Beg."

Hwoarang could feel himself shaking nervously. It was not a position he liked being in. What choice did he have? Die or submit to a demon. Those weren't any kind of choices to have. Maybe he could act his way out of it. "I don't know whom to beg," he admitted, taking in the beauty of his possessed lover's body. 

"Pretend I'm your 'Mishima-sama'."

"He would never threaten my life."

The devil smiled darkly, "Are you so certain of a man you barely know? Of a man who ignored your pleas to stop? Of a man whose greatest pleasure is to see you in pain? You are naïve, my beautiful human. Your naivety is the reason you're in this position in the first place. You were foolish to think a beautiful woman like Julia Chang would accept you for who you are, and you were foolish to think that your relationship with Kazuya was anything more then a stress-reliever. Now beg."

"… Please…" Hwoarang swallowed, awkwardly pleading, "please don't kill me."

"You know better then that. I have no desire to hear you beg for your life."

A tear betrayed the Korean and slowly streaked down his cheek. "Hurt me." Were the demons words about Kazuya true? "Please hurt me." It was a disturbing reality to be faced with. "I don't know what you want me to say. Tell me what to do. I'd be on my knees, but it's kind of fucking difficult right now."

The demon tossed Hwoarang onto the solid surface, and loomed over him, "Undress."

"What?"

There was no need for an answer, so the demon didn't give one. It only waited for its prisoner to submit. It didn't take long. Hwoarang took off his black wife-beater and shivered as the cool air brushed against his wounds. It was a lot colder up high, and soon Hwoarang had trouble keeping his teeth from chattering without his body trembling. 

It wasn't enough. The demon shook its head and nodded down at the blue jeans the Korean was wearing. "Completely," it clarified.

Hwoarang sighed in defeat, and complied hesitantly, finding himself exposed and freezing under the demon's deadly gaze. He had never felt so helpless since Toshin had killed his sensei. How the hell could he get himself out of this predicament in one piece? 

The demon closed the distance between them in one smooth stride. It pulled Hwoarang against it, and whispered in his ear, "I will make you cry."

Before Hwoarang could respond, rough lips pressed against his. It didn't even taste like his Mishima-sama. It tasted foul. The Korean had trouble stopping himself from gagging. The strong demonic hands gently caressed the wounded back, and suddenly dug in its nails, ripping off the new scabs. Hwoarang cried out, startled and in pain. The demon smirked. _Well at least I know how Kazuya became a sadist._

The demon turned Hwoarang around and shoved him. Hwoarang fell, his hands coming out to break his fall just in time. Within seconds, an extra weight was added as the demon put itself on top of its prey. The Korean could feel the demonic breath on his neck. The breath was even colder then the breeze. Hwoarang could no longer stop himself from trembling in violent shivers. 

Something pressed between the meaty cheeks of his behind. He hadn't even heard the demon remove anything so that couldn't be it. As the thick member forced its way in, he was proved wrong. 

Hwoarang screamed against the cold surface, and arched his back away from his assailant. He was still sore from the last time he had enjoyed Kazuya's abuse, and he was next to positive that this demonic Kazuya had more to abuse with. Hwoarang's breath came fast and heavy as he attempted to stabilize his wits. Was that truly a better fate then falling to his death? 

The creature thrusted, inserting itself dangerously deep, pressing against something that would normally mean pleasure, but in that case, it was only pain. Hwoarang sunk his teeth into his own hand in an attempt to divert his attention. The ring of muscle tightened around the demon's shaft, but the demon made no noise, no moan, absolutely no sign that it was feeling anything. Its wings were gone and all that was left was the glowing eyes and the awesome strength. 

Eventually the rough thrusts were too much to take, but the extreme pain was becoming more pleasurable to the vulnerable Blood Talon. He whimpered into the ground as the blood from his hand flowed past his teeth. The throbbing member impaling him jerked violently, causing him to cry out again. 

Hwoarang squeezed back tears, finding the pleasure worse then the pain. If he had any shred of pride and dignity left when the invasion of his body started, it was just obliterated. It was no longer cold within the combined heat of their bodies, yet the breath of the demon caused an inner chill to creep down the Korean spine. After a bit more of the humiliating abuse, foreign sounds startled Hwoarang. Eventually, he realized it was him, trembling with distressed sobs, humiliating him even further. 

A warm thick liquid leaked out of him, coating his inner thighs. He did not have to look to know it was blood. The pain, the pleasure, and the extreme emotional strain were overwhelming. Less then 3 minutes later, the demonic Mishima pulled himself out of the Korean's unconscious body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soft soothing music reached sleeping ears, bringing the man out of a troubled dream. Hwoarang opened his eyes finding himself face down on the hotel bed. His cheeks were wet, and his eyes sore. Must have been crying in his sleep. He closed his eyes, hoping against hope that it was all a dream, but when he shifted to sit up, he was met by a painful reality.

"You're awake."

Hwoarang pushed himself up with his hands, and got to his feet, being extremely careful not to bend his body. He wobbled a bit, still very tired, and in pain. A grimace tainted his face as he looked upon his former angel. It was painful just looking at the older man. "Yeah."

Kazuya stepped forward and frowned when the younger man stepped away. "That wasn't me, Hwoa-kun."

"How do I know that? How can I trust that Kazuya didn't die in that fucking volcano, and that bastard is just keeping your body alive? How can I believe one fucking thing that comes out of that disgusting cursed mouth of yours?"

Silence followed. Kazuya didn't know how to answer that. He stepped forward, "Hwoa-kun…"

"Don't come any fucking closer."

/I think I'm liking your toy. Perhaps we should keep him.\

Kazuya walked over to the mirror, lifted it off the hook and smashed it over his knee. The older man ignored the confused looks from his Korean companion, and punched the wooden table, glaring as it caved in under his fist. His anger was at himself, for pulling the Korean into his life. It wouldn't have happened if he was only able to resist the fiery redhead.

"I'm sorry. Is there any way I can…"

"Yeah. Stay the fuck out of my life," Hwoarang spat, grabbed his bag and stormed out of the hotel room.

**The End**

A/N: YES! It's over! If you want a sequel, REVIEW!!!!!!! I know I left a lot of unanswered questions, but that's why I'm willing to do a sequel. J 


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